Prelude to a Kiss
by Kat Doll
Summary: Revenge could have been her motivation. Or maybe it was the fact that her boyfriend was right, and Helga was still pining over that football head. Whatever it was, kissing Arnold in front of the entire student body was pure insanity.
1. Prelude to a Kiss

Disclaimer: Craig Bartlett owns everything.

Summary: Revenge could have been her motivation. Or maybe it was the fact that her boyfriend was right, and Helga was still pining over that football head. Whatever it was, kissing Arnold in front of the entire student body was pure insanity.

Author's Note: I started this at midnight with the hope of curing my insomnia. I promise the next chapter will be longer.

Prelude to a Kiss by Kat Doll

_As they say, it's all fun and games till the fat lady sings…or some crap like that. In this case, it's all fun and games till you look in the mirror, and come to find out that you are no longer a child._

The alarm clock rang, breaking the blonde from her peaceful slumber. Eyes still closed, Helga reached blindly across her dresser to turn the blasted thing off, accidently smacking the lump beside her. "Do you mind?"

Sapphire blue eyes shot open. Her breath hitched as she recounted the events of last night. The long limbed boy next to her was sprawled along the bed taking up most of the space. He was olive toned, with firm muscles and messy chestnut colored hair. It looked like he walked out of an ad for swim suit models.

"Michael? What the hell are you still doing here? You know there's no lock on my door. What if Bob woke me up?"

"I hate traveling at night." Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was grinning.

"I don't care. Get up!" Helga sat up, nudging at his ribs with her index finger.

"Calm down. It's not like Bob is going to be checking up on his wittle girl. He's probably still asleep."

"Whatever. We still have to get up for school. First day of class, remember? End of summer."

Michael groaned, and threw a pillow over his face. "Ugh. I'm dropping out anyway. Wake me up at eight, alright?"

Helga rolled her eyes at her boyfriend as he snuggled back under the covers. It was like he had no care in the world!

She released a long sigh and sidled out the covers. Her long hair, which had grown a lot over the summer, fell past her waist. She combed her glittery pink nails through the blond strands, wincing as they caught a few tangles.

A warm hand landed on her shoulder. He slowly played with her spaghetti strap before moving towards her spine. "What's got you so tense, huh?"

"Nothing; just first day back jitters. I'll get over it." She moved away from his touch and sat up, stretching out her arms.

"You're not still pining over what's-his-name, are you?"

Helga tensed. "Arnoldo? Psh. Don't make me laugh," Moving back on the bed, the blond crawled over the covers so that she was straddling him. Leaning over, she whispered, "Those days have passed. I want the real thing now."


	2. Buried Love

Disclaimer: Craig Bartlett owns everything.

Summary: Revenge could have been her motivation. Or maybe it was the fact that her boyfriend was right, and Helga was still pining over that football head. Whatever it was, kissing Arnold in front of the entire student body was pure insanity.

Author's Note: Hopefully all my reviewers got my thank you emails. If you haven't-- thank you, thank you, and thank you! *blows a billion kisses* ^ ^

Also, to the readers of my other story Ask Geraldine, it is currently being edited. Chapter four will be posted once the process is complete.

_I shall bury my weary Love_  
_Beneath a tree,_  
_In the forest tall and black_  
_Where none can see._

**Buried Love**

"Clear the halls children! Your King and Queen have arrived," yelled Michael over the cluster of students in the halls. Helga rolled her eyes but smirked nonetheless. They slowly pushed their way through the crowds, with Michael's arm draped protectively over her shoulders. It felt more like a vice grip, but at least his closeness calmed her nerves.

Helga scanned the faces trying to spot the familiar ones. She smirked when she saw Phoebe part her way between a few thuggish looking brutes. The second the girl looked up from her large stack of books, a wild smile blossomed on her face. Phoebe snapped her hand in the air, waving energetically. "Helga!"

"Pheebs!"

A few years ago Phoebe had left Hillwood to live with her grandparents in Korea. It had been devastating news for Helga when she found out. They still contacted each other through letters and phone calls.

Michael rolled his eyes, as Helga threw herself at her childhood friend. He had seen the dark-haired girl in a few pictures she kept taped to her mirror.

The two girls embraced almost squealing with joy. "Criminy. You look so different."

Phoebe was still short, but her body had filled out some. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, with a few black strands falling over her eyes. Helga was amazed that there were no oval-shaped glasses shielding her eyes.

"You look different too. I almost didn't recognize you," Phoebe said, smiling widely. She glanced over at the tall man draped against her friend.

"Oh," Helga said, snapping to her senses. "That's Michael, my boyfriend. I've told you about him, right?"

"Pleased to meet you; any friend of Helga's is a friend of mine," He said with a toothy grin, reaching over to bring Phoebe's hand to his lips. The girl's cheeks flushed, and she pulled away.

"Can you not molest my friends?" Helga griped, flicking his ear.

"Ouch. You don't have to get so physical."

"Oh. You don't want to see me get physical."

"I have in fact, plenty of times."

Helga gasped, elbowing him in the gut. She glanced over at Phoebe who was trying not to stare.

Michael rolled his eyes. He hoped Helga's childhood buddy showing up didn't change things. Helga never got embarrassed when he openly flirted with her in front of their peers.

"Okay, I'm off. Tell me how your classes went when you come home," he said. Feeling possessive, he grabbed Helga by the waist pulling her into a long sultry kiss. Helga's cheeks burned when she heard Phoebe's quiet gasp.

"Hurry up," Helga said in between kisses. Michael smiled, drawing it out as long as he could.

"Um…hey guys? I don't mean to interrupt but I really need to get past."

Helga froze; she became aware of her own heartbeat, and her knees wouldn't stop shaking. She recognized that voice anywhere. If Michael wasn't holding her she would fall apart right there.

Helga had given up on her childhood crush—or at least tried too. Three years ago--there had been an awkward moment at Rhonda Lloyd's party, where in Helga had a little too much to drink. At one point they were talking, and then out of impulse, she had started kissing him. It felt so right. Arnold had remained passive the whole time. Afterward he gently pulled away, and explained to her that it would never work between them. She could almost feel the embarrassment radiating off him.

He might as well have killed her then. That would have been easier to deal with…

Michael pulled away to glare at the person who interrupted them. Helga tightened her grip on his shirt in warning._ 'Please not him. Please not him.'_

"You _are_ interrupting, and I don't care if you have to get past. Take another root, this one's occupied."

Arnold glared at the slightly taller boy. He then turned his gaze to the blonde beside him. "Honestly, Helga, you could do a lot better."

"The same goes to you, football-head," Helga said jutting her chin out, heart fluttering inside her chest. Everyone knew about Arnold's off-again-on-again relationship with his girlfriend, Wendy Birks. Wendy was a manipulative bitch that had the boy wrapped around her little finger. Arnold was extremely testy these days, caught up in his girlfriend's games, and rumors that she was running around.

Arnold rolled his eyes. He was about to say something when he noticed Phoebe.

"Phoebe-- your back! I don't believe it."

The girl chuckled, "Hello, Arnold. It's nice to see you again."

"Wow, it's been so long. I know Gerald would be--"

Helga widened her eyes, shaking her head frantically. Michael looked on confused.

"Oh," Arnold winced, "Sorry. I forgot that you and Gerald aren't speaking."

Helga sighed, throwing her hands up.

"He misses you, you know. There's not a day goes by that he isn't sorry about what happened." Arnold continued.

Phoebe shook her head not wanting to hear more. "I'm not ready to talk to him again."

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"That's alright. It took me awhile to get over what happened, but I'm moving forward-- even if that meant moving back to Hillwood."

Helga put her hand on the girls shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Pheebs."


End file.
